


I've Got You

by oneshotsbygabby



Series: Clint Barton Bingo [1]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Best Friends, Best Friends Reader & Clint Barton, Cuddling & Snuggling, Deaf Clint Barton, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Past Relationship(s), Reader-Insert, Soft Clint Barton, Very little dialogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-15 20:18:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18506335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneshotsbygabby/pseuds/oneshotsbygabby
Summary: Your father just died. It hits you so hard, and it's up to your best friend to make you feel better. You know he'll be there for you, just like he always has.





	I've Got You

**Author's Note:**

> When I write a reader insert, I don't like to put specific descriptions into my stories, because I like them as broad and open as possible, but this one was written for me. I find writing therapeutic, and, for those who don't know, my dad died two weeks ago and I just needed to put all the anger and sadness into my writing. I use writing instead of the unhealthy coping mechanisms I used to use, and I just needed to write this down.
> 
> This is one of my fics for the Clint Barton Bingo. It's O1, Cuddling.

You were numb.

After it happened, there had been so many people coming and going, so many people in and out of your apartment, and then there was the funeral, where you were, once again, surrounded by people.

After the funeral, you went to your parents' room. You had had a bad run of luck over the last year. A very brutal and messy divorce after you'd found your husband cheating on you.

It had broken you. You had suspected something was going on for a long time, but you ignored it over and over again, because you loved him so much you just didn't want to see it. He had been your childhood best friend, so you were so sure that he would never hurt you. You trusted him one hundred and ten percent.

And that turned around to bite you in the ass.

You were pretty sure that, when the separation and divorce happened, your dad was angrier at your ex than you were.

You hadn't been angry at him. Sure, when he cheated on you, it hurt, and you were pretty pissed off, but you weren't angry at him. You were angry at yourself. You put blame on yourself. Your marriage had been crumbling for years, and you never noticed. Or, rather, you ignored it. So, when it had ended you had come to the conclusion that if maybe you had paid more attention to him and hadn't spent so much time avoiding the real subjects, he wouldn't have strayed.

But he did, and your dad had been your strength in that time. He had loved you, and he had been there for you whenever you needed to talk. He had been there to hold your hand, and to hold you whenever you cried. Told you how worthless your ex was and how you deserved so much better.

And now he was gone.

You were living in an apartment with your parents -- no, with just your mother, you were going to _have_ to get used to that -- and when you went into their room, you saw his bed.

Your dad had been sick for a long time. He was a Navy vet, and while he would tell you stories about his time in the Navy, his time in Vietnam, that wasn't what killed him. His body had been shutting down for so long, his diabetes and many other various illnesses killing him. When hospice had been called in, you were pretty sure your dad wasn't going to be around for much longer.

And he was gone within two weeks.

When it happened, when he passed, your mom had called for you. Woke you up out of a dead sleep and come to your bedroom, to make sure that your dad wasn't alone when he passed. And you wanted to be with him. No one deserved to die alone, and you wanted to make sure he was with the people he loved when it happened.

With your mom and you on either side of him, he passed. He wasn't in any pain when it happened, but now, you were feeling empty.

All of the sudden, it just hit you that he was never coming back.

Before he died, your dad had been worried that you and your mom weren't going to be okay. That you were going to take his death so very hard.

He was right about one thing, though. That you hated the fact that he was gone and would do anything to be able to be there with him right now. Wishing that God had taken you instead of him. You would do anything to see his face again, even just for a minute.

Your aunt had taken your mom out, which you didn't join them because your best friend of the last two decades had been at the funeral. He'd been there to just be with you, for support. He wanted to be there to hold your hand and let you cry on him. He was in the apartment with you, but you had excused yourself to change your clothes.

You knew that Clint would realize where you had gone when you hadn't come back in five minutes.

You had no idea how much time passed. You just stood there in the middle of the room, looking at your dad's empty bed, everything around it that had showed he lived there and was so full of life, and it just hurt your heart.

The tears were streaming down your face and you were hurting so very much. Your cheeks were moist with the tears that you hadn't bothered to wipe away. What was the point of wiping them away when you were just going to take their place anyway?

You're standing in the middle of your parents' - your _mom's_ , your mind supplied -- room in the orange dress you wore for his funeral, the dress that he loved you in because it reminded him of his favorite baseball team, and you can feel your body start to shake. The tremors are making their way through your body, and you're starting to get really weak.

"I've got you, love," his whisper is in your ear, and you didn't even hear him coming, which was weird. It was true; Clint Barton could be stealthy and sneaky when he wanted to, but you would put money on the guess that he wasn't trying to do that right now. You had just been so caught up in your grief that you didn't even hear him coming.

He stands behind you and wraps his strong arms around your stomach. He's hugging you from behind, and you lean your head back and it hits his shoulder.

"Y/N," Clint whispers, and you maneuver yourself so you're standing with your front to his. He opens his arms and you step into them and wrap your arms around his neck.

Clint's been your best friend for almost twenty years. It was almost eighteen years ago when an awkward seventeen-year-old girl had switched schools and literally ran head-first into a nineteen-year-old senior. You had been meek and shy, and he was the popular jock, even with his hearing disability, but instead of saying anything hurtful to you, instead of making you feel even more like an idiot than you already felt, he just smiled at you and asked if you were okay.

The tumble had caused you to fall on your ass, and he smiled at you softly and reached down to grab your hand so he could help you to your feet.

Clint had been your rock. He had never liked your ex, and had told you so many times that you were marrying an idiot and someone who didn't deserve you, but you just wanted to love so badly that you didn't listen to anything Clint had said and married the guy anyway.

Even though Clint had never agreed with your decision, he stood behind you completely. You stayed best friends and hung out together, and he was always there for you whenever you needed him. It didn't matter how far he had to drive to get to you, he was always there for you.

He was the first person you'd called when your father passed.

"C'mon, let's go lie down," he whispers, and you just nod. He picks you up, bridal-style, and carries you to the couch out in the living room. He grabs the blanket that your mom always keeps draped over the back of it, and you rearrange yourself so he's behind you, your back to his chest, and your legs are tangled with one another's, and he wraps the blanket around the two of you.

You roll over just slightly so your head lies on his chest and you can hear his heartbeat from where you lay. The tears are still coming, they haven't stopped, and, absentmindedly, Clint runs his fingers through your hair.

You had worn it down for the funeral -- your dad had always told you how beautiful your hair was and how you should wear it down more -- to honor your father, and it was easier for Clint to just stoke his fingers through it.

"I'm not going anywhere, Y/N," Clint says softly. His eyes are on you, he's watching you so carefully, but you know that he's telling you the truth. "I'm going to be here for you as long as you need me. I'll always be here for you. I promise."

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't want to spoil, so I'm going to put this at the end. Everything mentioned, from the separation/divorce to the way the father died, that is true. I just needed to write everything down to try to fight my own inner demons. I have been feeling so empty lately, I just needed to make this about me, for therapeutic reasons.
> 
> If you like my writing, you can check out my [tumblr](http://oneshotsbygabby.tumblr.com). I gladly take requests.


End file.
